I watch, still as can be, as she struggles to her feet and limps a few paces away from me. ‘Oh God, that hurts.’

I come to life, snapped into action by her pained voice. Shooting over, I take her arm. ‘You came from nowhere,’ I explain. ‘There’s never anyone on this road.’

She shrugs me off, annoyed, and tries to straighten. ‘Get off, you oaf.’

Yikes. She’s seriously pissed off. I raise my hands in surrender, backing away as her hard stare slowly drops, being replaced with . . .

Oh shit. Her eyes well. Her lip wobbles. Her paint-covered face twists a little. ‘Ouch,’ she croaks again, rolling her shoulder and hissing in pain. God damn, have I ever felt like such an arsehole?

I move in quickly, unable to stop myself. ‘Here, let me help.’

‘I don’t want your help.’

Rolling my eyes and disregarding the fact that I’m about to be smeared in rainbow paint, too, I swoop in and scoop her from her feet before she tries some heroic move to decline my help again. I carry her to a nearby fallen trunk, holding her tighter when she struggles in my arms, hissing in pain between her protests.

‘Quit wriggling,’ I order sternly, trying not to lose my patience. She eventually submits and stills in my arms, and I peek out the corner of my eye to find her staring at me, her eyes a little wide. ‘Bad day?’ I ask flatly.

Her expression changes in a heartbeat, going from stunned to angry. ‘It was fine until you ran me down.’ She looks away, a little snootily, and I see her teeth sink into her bottom lip. She’s not just still now, she’s tense, too, and when she snatches a quick glance at me again, finding I’m studying her, she huffs and looks away.

‘Then I’m sorry for ruining it,’ I say quietly.

‘So you should be.’

I lower her to the tree trunk and drop to my haunches before her, breathing in patience as she fights to focus on anything other than me. She’ll struggle; I’m no small guy, and I’m crouched in front of her.

‘Seriously, are you okay?’ I soften my voice and dip to get myself in her downcast vision, forcing a small smile that I hope makes her feel better.

She lifts her eyes but not her head, as if afraid to look me in the eye. Her forced angry expression softens a little, and I take a moment to marvel at how blue her eyes are. ‘Well?’ I prompt, realising that I’ve been staring for a little too long.

She shrugs, more placid now. With her hand on her shoulder, she rolls it a little. ‘A bit sore.’

‘Can I take a look at your knee?’ I motion to the area where the leg of her baggy dungarees is pulled high up her rather lovely thigh, exposing the grazed, bleeding mess.

‘You can see it, can’t you?’ she asks a little sardonically, and my lips straighten in natural displeasure without thought. Is she going to continue to be difficult for the sake of it? Noting my annoyance, she waves a hand dismissively. ‘Go for it.’

Dropping to my knees, I take her slender ankle and rest her foot on my thigh. ‘Relax,’ I order gently, feeling her stiffen at my touch. ‘I’m not a mass murderer.’ I peek up, and for reasons I can’t explain, I savour the sight of her trying so hard to hold back her smile.

‘How would I know?’ she asks.

‘Well, if I wanted to kill you, I could have done it within a second of seeing you.’ I inspect her knee, seeing bits of dirt and gravel in the cuts.

‘What are you, a hit man?’

I laugh lightly and pull my T-shirt up over my head, then use it to dab away the trails of blood down her leg. ‘No, actually. Ex-MI5. Now I’m in protection. Or I was,’ I correct myself, seeing astonishment on her face, but she doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure if she’s stunned by the information, or by my chest. Could be both. I don’t know, but something tells me to move things along quickly. She appears to be in a bit of a trance. ‘This needs cleaning up.’ She just nods, suddenly mute. ‘My place is just up the track. You happy to go there?’ She shakes her head. ‘Lost your voice?’

Looking away as she blinks repeatedly, she clears her throat. ‘I can clean myself up when I get home.’

She’s wary. I can’t blame her, really. I’m a six-foot-three-inch bloke with a scar on my lip and a bent nose from endless breaks. Hardly a comforting sight. Suddenly bothered by this, I force a smile again, knowing it’s crooked from that scar. Her eyes drop to my mouth, and she swallows. The atmosphere shifts. The silence is awkward. My skin tingles unstoppably.

Tags: Jodi Ellen Malpas Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net